


We Are Soldiers

by HelfenundWehren



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Eventual AmePru, M/M, Russia is the bad guy just deal with it, This is Winter Soldier inspired, Yes I am working on my other fic too please don't shoot me, the rating will go up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-07-12 22:04:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7124191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelfenundWehren/pseuds/HelfenundWehren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prussia as a country was ended in 1949. After a talk with Germany, America starts to look into what happened to this country no one has seen in over thirty years. What he finds will change how he thinks about the life cycle of nations, how he thinks, and just maybe help change a soul in the process. </p><p>This is inspired by The Winter Soldier. Please note that there will be some similarities but that is all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There were glasses lying on the desk that had too many papers scattered around the top to make it seem like a job was actually being done. A desk lamp was on, a laptop closed, pens scattered, and a half finished mug of coffee. And in the office chair? A snoozing American named Alfred F. Jones could be found. He’d spent the day dealing with election bullshit and the evening going over old Cold War documents. He was looking for clues, anything really, to show whatever happened to Prussia.

He’s started looking into the former nation a month ago upon a conversation with Ludwig and Francis. They’d been talking about the American elections, the world state, the refugee crisis in many countries, the world again on the brink of war. It had been the war talk that got Francis and Ludwig talking fondly about the former European Empire. The Army with a Nation. The thorn in the side of any nation who stood against him. The true monster of Europe. But, even Alfred had fond memories of the man who had trained him up to fight against Britain for independence. And then they got to talking about whatever may have happened to the man.

Ludwig mentioned the last time he’d seen Gilbert was in 1985 when they’d been in a meeting and the former knight had almost broken his brother’s jaw with a solid hit. All the German had done was ask for a few minutes alone with him. Gilbert had seemed different and he couldn’t place it until he’d seen his eyes. All cold fury, mistrust, betrayal, and not the Prussian that had raised him. That was the last time he’s seen the man. Ludwig said it must have been Russia’s influence and had chalked it up to Soviet life. So, after the Wall came down, he was surprised when his brother didn’t show. And he hadn’t been seen at all by anyone since. Ivan claimed to not have seen him, but there was a glint in his eyes when he said it, one that sent a shiver down Alfred’s spine two weeks ago when he’d asked. Had Ivan killed him?...

It seemed those thoughts popped into his dreams because Alfred shot awake, looking around the room with a racing heart, dream already forgotten about. Rubbing his temples, he sat straight in his chair, fixing his cricked tie. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he saw the time, and frowned.

“How did it get to be one in the morning? God, how long was I sleeping for? My neck fuckin’ hurts!” He groaned, looking at everything on his desk.

Even after a few hours of sleep it didn’t make any sense to him. According to his files Gilbert was dead but there were pictures that seemed to be new of the man. So when had he died? With a sigh, Alfred gathered the files up, unlocked his desk drawer, put the files in it, and then locked it back up. Unsanctioned reviews into nations, even former ones, were frowned on.

Leaving his office he was surprised to still see his secretary there.

“Abby, what are you-“

“You’re here, I’m here, it’s how it goes Sir.” She gave him a pleasant smile and began to shut down her workspace as he wondered about giving her a raise. “Have a nice night. I will see you in the morning.”

“Actually, Abby, take the morning off. I think I’m going to come in late, if I come in at all. And don’t give me that look. You deserve a day off as much as I do. Don’t make me clear your calendar for you.” The American said with a teasing tone. With one last nod after she thanked him, he nodded and headed to the elevator.

A quick ride down to the ground floor, a few quick steps through security, and he was out in the light polluted sky of Washington DC. He missed the small farm he had in North Carolina. He could hear birds at all hours of the day there and it just didn’t happen in the big cities. Just like he couldn’t see the night sky in the city like he could on the farm. Maybe he’d go see that farm. He hadn’t been on it in two years now after all.

“Jesus I’m nostalgic tonight. Fucking Prussian, even dead you fuck up my life,” he laughed to himself, heading to the parking garage he used. It was one of the things that drove his boss nuts: how he parked like a civilian rather than get chauffeured around. Every time they complained he made his motorcycle just a little louder in retaliation until they finally stopped. Really, who was going to mess with the literal embodiment of America? Someone would be in for a long day if they ever messed with him. At least it would break the monotony of his days.

Putting on his helmet, Alfred started his bike, baked out of his spot, revved his engine a few times, then took off down Constitution Ave. As he passed the White House, he gave a wave to the security on the roof, noticing the lights on in the East Wing. “Someone’s up late,” he muttered to himself, shifting lanes to prepare to depart onto 66 and take the long way to his Arlington home. Just a few more days of this and he’d be off to a cabin in New Castle for a week. One week where he’d be left alone. No security. Just him, nature, a sat phone, and a gun. Or, in short, heaven.

  
Getting home was uneventful as it normally was. His lights were on as he had left them, and Spike was barking at the door for him. He’d gotten the Chinook as a puppy five years ago and the animal was loyal to a fault. And he was always at the door ready to go out when Alfred got home. Smiling as he turned off the bike, he listened to his pet bark a bit before calling out.

“Alright, alright! Let me park this thing!” Taking his helmet off, he attached it to the back of his bike, then pushed it into his garage. A few minutes later, he was inside, Spike on his harness and leash, and they were out for a late night walk.

“I’m sorry I’m home so late. But we’ll take the truck out this weekend to the cabin and you’ll get me all to yourself. No presidents, no Secret Service, no paper work. Just you, me, and the great outdoors!” He said as his dog did his business. It would be nice to get some fresh air, too. And get his mind off of dead nations.

Taking Spike back inside, he filled his water dish and headed off to his bedroom to shower and go to bed. Ludwig was going to get a ration of shit at the next world meeting for all of this. Even though he hadn’t asked Alfred to look into what happened to Prussia. It was something he was doing on his own. And… And maybe Alfred was a little curious about what happened to the man who ensured he would win his independence from Arthur.

After a quick shower, the American found himself exhausted, and he dried off quickly and didn’t bother with clothes as he climbed into bed. That would take energy he didn’t have. With one last look at the clock to show he had to be up again in four hours, he looked at his phone to see a text from Kiku, and turned it off. He’d reply in the morning. God was he happy he could be in later in the day. Maybe he’d do what he told Abby he’d do and just not go in. The President would understand. “Fuck…” he grumbled, turned his phone back on, then sent a message to the President about not being in.

Because his phone was out, he sent a message back to Kiku asking if he was already on vacation, and said that was coming in a few days. Three to be exact. Turning it off again, Alfred put his phone on the wireless charger, then rolled over and was out moments later.  
The next time he woke up there was sun streaming through his window, birds singing, and Spike pawing at the door. It was now that he regretted sleeping naked. It had gotten warm early and his sheets felt sticky from sweat. With another whimper from Spike, he groaned, rolled out of bed, and padded over to the bathroom.

A quick trip there, he put some pants on, grabbed his phone, and opened the door to be greeted by his dog.

“Who’s my best buddy?? You are! Come on!” He said to his trotting dog. Heading to the front door, he turned on his phone as he opened the door, letting Spike run out to do his thing. Leaving the door open, he went to the kitchen, starting some coffee while he went through messages from other nations that had come in over night.

Again, he was cursing how far ahead of him most of them were. It was already late afternoon in Germany but ten in the morning in Virginia. The time difference was even worse when he was in Seattle or anywhere on the West Coast. Alfred was scrolling through a text from Ivan when the coffee started to brew. He would never understand the former Soviet. Half of the time he seemed sane, the other half of the time he seemed ready to explode.

_“Alfred. You should stop putting your nose where it doesn’t belong. The Kremlin doesn’t take kindly to snooping.”_

That was all the text had sent. While he had a feeling he knew why it had been sent, Alfred hadn’t taken any Russian files, and therefore just sent a smiley face emoji back and went on to read a text from Arthur, one from Ludwig, and three from Mattie. Yes, playoffs were happening and no Canadian team was in them. Alfred would rub that in his face after coffee was done.

Spike sauntered into the kitchen as the coffee stopped brewing; sitting expectantly when he noticed his bowl was empty. Alfred poured himself a cup of coffee, picked up his pet’s bowl, filled it with food, and then blew on his coffee as he headed to close the front door. Today he’d watch the new, play games, and do nothing else.

Turning on the news he caught up on what happened over night then flipped to other international news stations to keep up with worldly events. Contrary to what everyone else seemed to think he did keep himself informed. He just chose to keep moods light. And that wasn’t a crime!

His day passed quickly after that. He played some new game out on the market that he thought he’d be better at. He played with his dog and packed for the week long trip. It wasn’t until he was showering before bed that night that he thought about Prussia again. Alfred was wondering if maybe he was obsessed with this. But there hadn’t been a nation death in his lifetime. What was it like? How did it happen? Was he really dead or was he playing a big trick on everyone and staying hidden? That sounded like Gilbert. Like the night before, he went to bed with the thought of the fallen empire on his mind, but it didn’t disrupt his sleep.

The next few days were probably the busiest and slowest of Alfred’s life. Missing one day seemed to add two days worth of work onto his plate. And it wasn’t like he could really complain! He had decided to take a day off right before going on a vacation. So now he had all these documents to review, sign, kick back, and otherwise make him wish he was the one who was dead. Friday couldn’t come fast enough! When Friday did come, though, he was out of the office right at three in the afternoon and on his bike to get Spike, their things, and make the four hour (in good traffic) trek to New Castle.

Alfred had a driving playlist in place for the drive, wanting to set a good example of not using his phone and driving at the same time, and had to admit it wasn’t a bad drive. He stopped twice to walk Spike and once for them both to eat. This put them at the cabin after eleven. The man was happy he’d called ahead and had someone turn a few lights on for him, otherwise the cabin was creepy as all hell, and looked to be the perfect place for a ghost to haunt at night.

Pulling up next to the cabin, he got out, letting Spike wander the familiar grounds without his leash.

“Don’t go far, Spike!” He called out to the dog who he knew wouldn’t leave the perimeter of the automatic light that went on when they pulled up.  
Grabbing his bags from the bed of his truck, Alfred smiled as he watched Spike roll around on the grass, and headed inside after unlocking the door. Looking around briefly, he dropped his keys into what looked to be a new key dish from probably the cabin’s caretaker for when he wasn’t there. It wasn’t until he got to his room in the back of the house that he felt strange.

Going into the room, he dropped the bags onto the bed without turning on the light, but felt his hair stand on end. Almost like he wasn’t alone. For a moment, all was quiet as he let his eye adjust, and then there was movement out of the corner of his eye.

Unable to react fast enough, something – No, someone – crashed into him, knocking him into the wall hard enough to knock his glasses off. Alfred braced himself on the wall when he felt a hit to his kidneys. Growling, he darted to the side, hearing the break of his glasses as he stepped on them.

“I don’t fucking think so!” He snapped, seeing movement as the assailant came at him again. This time he was ready and side stepped the attack, grabbed the back of the other’s clothing, and used everything he had to throw the man into the wall.

The grunt he heard from the hard hit confirm this was a man. With that in mind, Alfred was on him, hitting vital areas as his would be assassin blocked blows to his face. Oh the American was pissed and didn’t let up until he knew the other couldn’t fight back. Standing, he stomped on his chest, and then dragged the facemask covered man by his clothes to the main room. Whoever this was fought to get away the entire time, but Alfred lived off the land here, and always had rope handy.

Hefting him up to sit in a chair, Alfred tied the mysterious man in place, noticing now in the better light that he couldn’t actually get a good look at him. He wore a hood to cover most of his head and a mask covered the lower part of his face. With how his head was hanging, the American couldn’t see his eyes or exposed skin, but he could see the blood dripping from probably a broken nose.

It was then he heard Spike growling from the door. Putting his hand up, he commanded his dog to stop there, then went to the door to close and lock in from the inside. Going through the cabin, Alfred closed curtains as he rolled his sleeves up, all the while keeping an eye on his uninvited guest.

The man hadn’t moved but he was sure he’d heard some kind of laughter. That grated on him. Who the fuck was this person?! He was obviously insane. Who attacked a nation!? Going to stand in front of the man again, he finished rolling up his sleeves, and bent down a bit.

“You’re a stupid fuck ain’t ya? Who the hell are you anyway? If you don’t tell me I’m just gonna find out.” When there was no reply, Alfred set himself, hit the man across the face, and then pushed his head back with one hand. His other hand pulled back the hood and in that instant his blood ran cold. Looking back at him were familiar red eyes. Glaring, defiant, but overall dull with none of that old fire in them. Alfred lowered the facemask on the man just to be sure before he spoke on shocked and shaky breath.

“G-Gilbert?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Prussia in this chapter much. It's shorter than normal and I'm sorry. But I'm setting up for the next chapter or two that should come quicker this time. I'm in school so it'll take a bit, you have my apologies.
> 
> The ~~'s designate a dream start and end.

It had been twelve hours since he’d tied Gilbert to the chair. Alfred had shut all the curtains, locked the door, gotten his gun, and put Spike in the kitchen. He had an old gate from when he was a puppy that was put back up to keep his dog there. While he’d done all of that Gilbert hadn’t moved except to watch him and give the creepiest grin he was sure he’d ever seen. A defiant grin but dead eyes were not a comforting feeling. And that’s all that had happened in twelve hours even when he got up to let Spike out. No movement, no speaking, nothing.

“Jesus Christ! Would you stop grinning at me like that?” The American finally snapped, debating smacking the once great nation around just so he could get some kind of reaction. “I’ll shoot you if you don’t stop.”

“Nyet.” The voice was gravelly but definitely Gilbert’s. And it was the first thing he’d said that entire time.

Rubbing his temples, Alfred was happy to get some kind of response, but hearing Russian come from the epitome of German was surreal. It sent shivers up his spine because the Gilbert he remembered, the Gilbert he’d admired, would never have been caught dead speaking such a “vile” language as he so eloquently put it one night almost a century ago. Hell, the Gilbert he knew wouldn’t have just attacked him with intent to kill.

Feeling exhausted, he found a tie in his luggage, keeping an ear on his prisoner. Pulling it out, he looked over the Prussian in the chair, and the creepy grin. Alfred needed sleep and he was sure the other needed it to. With that in mind, he stalked over to Gilbert, tying the tie around his head to block out his sense of sight. Maybe, with Prussia unable to see, he could get some sleep. With one last look around the cabin, Alfred decided this was safe enough and sat on the couch, falling to sleep not long after

~~~~~~~

“Come on, Alfred! Do you want to win this war or not? Pick up the pace!” Gilbert yelled at him. It was nothing new. The man was a force to be reckoned with. If anyone knew war, it was Prussia, and he was damn good at turning the tides. Alfred couldn’t help, even though the nearly torturous training, admiring this man that made Europe tremble. And it didn’t surprise him that happened. When Gilbert walked, it was like the world quaked under his feet, a testament to his power.  
But he didn’t hold that power forever.

No, the next time they met, the world was trembling under America’s feet. But the Prussian was stubborn. He would have fought to the death on land or in the skies. Alfred was finally able to show him that he had grown beyond the training he received to leave England. And all he got was a gloved hand ruffling his hair and a punch to the gut with a warning “don’t get cocky, kid”. Alfred saw no reason to not be cocky.

Especially only a few short decades later when he was even more power, more fearsome, and he couldn’t feel Prussia’s presence anymore. He was broken, weak, dying, but Gilbert’s eyes never lost the fire. Not when he was put into prison, not when he was sentenced to go stay with Russia, and not when he’d seen the man briefly in the 1980’s. So what had happened?

Alfred’s dream changed focus again, to a time not yet passed, a scowling Prussia slowly starting to grin, the fire back in his eyes. “I have had to serve Russia for far too long. Let me do this, Al. Let me take them out.” And then Gilbert leaned in and soon they were kissing. It was sloppy, it was rushed, and it was… Wet?

~~~~~~~

The American shot out of sleep, Spike licking his face to wake him up. Quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he froze, looking at his dog, then the empty chair. The empty chair.

“Fuck! Fucking fuckity fuck!” Alfred was on his feet moments later, searching the cabin for a gun. But every single one of them was gone. Gilbert was gone and he had removed all weapons from the cabin. Even knives couldn’t be found! 

“I’m going to kill him,” he muttered under his breath, pulling away a false floor board where he kept one pistol – Just in case. And he was glad he did that now. Gilbert was armed, dangerous, not himself, and could be anywhere.

He went over to the key holder, noting his truck keys were still hanging there, meaning Gilbert was on foot. And he didn’t know this land like Alfred did. The land didn’t tremble beneath him anymore. He was just a puppet now. A Soviet tool that should have died long ago, all personal feelings aside, because now he was loose in America. It had the blond rubbing his temples as he thought about what to do. There was no way he could alert police. Gilbert could kill them. Maybe he could reach out to Ludwig? Get him to America after explaining what was going on?… 

Taking his phone out of his pocket, Alfred called up the German, surprised when it almost went to voicemail before it was answered.

“Alfred, have you no sense of time or decency when calling? I’m about to head off to an important meeting.”

“Ludwig, I’m sorry, but this is urgent. I’m not going to sugarcoat for once either. Prussia is alive and he tried to kill me.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a good ten seconds before there was a snapped order in German and a door slamming in the background. Alfred had to imagine that was Ludwig telling someone to cancel his meeting and him making sure they got privacy. He assumed correctly as Ludwig spoke once again, a clipped tone to his voice.

“What do you mean he tried to kill you?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. I got to my cottage in the mountains and he fucking jumped me. And yes, I’m positive it was him. I had him tied to a chair and, well, I took a nap and he got away.”

“You took… A nap? You left him there tied up and took a nap?” Oh, he could hear the anger in Ludwig’s voice. Alfred shivered a bit from it even. The German was never one to be pleasant when pissed off.

“Look, I know it was stupid-“

“Very stupid.”

“-But I’d been up with him all night. And something is just wrong with him. Ludwig, he only spoke once and it was in Russian. Putting that with that text from Ivan a few weeks ago, and I’m thinking our Eastern Bear knows more than he’s letting on.” Alfred was certain that was the case and it could be heard in his tone.  
There was a deep sigh, some clacking of computer keys, and then Ludwig spoke up. “I’m getting on a plane to America tonight. I’ll land in Dulles in the morning. I’ll take that ‘vacation’ time the Chancellor would like me to take. And we’ll figure out what to do. I can assume Gilbert’s actions are directed at you and not at the country itself. If so, there would have been something big by now.”

That made sense to Alfred. He was the end game of an insane Prussian who had who knew what kind of skills. And this made him even more dangerous. He could be anywhere. The American found his finger hovering over the NSA contact number he had in his phone after ending the conversation with Ludwig. Could this be a matter of National Security? But if Alfred did this, then the odds of bringing in Gilbert alive drastically decreased. No, it would be better to take care of it himself if he could. He and Ludwig could do it.

“Alright, Spike, we’re cutting this short. Ready to go back to Alexandria?” Like his dog could even reply. He just got a wagging tail and a soft bark. “Wanna go for a ride?” He said in a baby tone and his dog just barked and went to sit by the door.

“You’re too smart for me.” He muttered as he went to collect his things. Damn Gilbert. He hadn’t even gotten time to relax and unpack yet! Running his tongue over his teeth, Alfred shuddered, feeling gross. Digging his toothbrush out, he brushed them quickly, then headed off to the truck, Spike trotting next to him.  
Opening the door up, he let his dog jump in, then put in his bags. Really, this had to be the shittiest vacation he’d ever had. And that was saying something when the last time he went on vacation they ended up invading a country. At least then it made sense. A nation they thought was dead coming back to life? That was something else entirely. It was sad, it was elating, and it left him torn.

The drive back home wasn’t too bad, all things considered. There was the usual traffic, construction, accidents, but not bad. He had enough time to get home, walk Spike, shower, and get to some well deserved sleep. It was thankfully dreamless this time. He wasn’t sure if he could handle another Prussia-filled dream. He didn’t stir again until there was loud banging on his door.

Groaning, Alfred rolled out of bed, shuffling over to the door while quieting his dog. Rubbing his eyes, he looked through the window to see Ludwig and Mathieu on his front steps.

“Mattie?” He asked as he opened the door, confused as to why his brother would be there.

“Of course. Ludwig called me and told me what was going on. I knew Prussia well. I saw him from time to time in the Cold War,” that was news to Alfred, “And I want to help.”

“I asked him to join me, us, in this. Three sets of eyes are better than two. And he is right about being close to Gilbert.”

“Okay, the three of us. The Three Musketeers. All for one and all for Gilbert.” This earned him exasperated looks and he stepped aside to let them in. It looked like Mattie had brought some computer stuff with him and Ludwig brought files. This was going to be a fun few days.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first chapter! Let me know what you think. There isn't an update schedule yet but I do have the next two chapters or so planned out!


End file.
